


March Slowly, Elrond

by Leeheon



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Eregion, Fluff, Gen, Very Abrupt Fluff, last letter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leeheon/pseuds/Leeheon
Summary: Celebrimbor writes a letter to Elrond.





	March Slowly, Elrond

**Author's Note:**

> Celebrimbor's last line comes directly from Frodo's in the Fellowship of the Ring. Sorry ;)

 

 Elrond, _he wrote, and paused. Then he struck out the name and began again._

 Curufinwe Tyelperinquar Curufinwion known as Celebrimbor to Elrond son of Earendil, herald of the High King in Lindon.

_He struck that out, too. Finally he settled on:_

 Elrond!

 Elrond, kinsman, who no doubt marches across Eriador even as I write this. Greetings!

 Off with the pleasantries. There is but one reason I write this - Elrond, Elrond, do not come to Eregion. Half-second-cousin-twice-removed, I beg you. March slowly, Elrond. It is to certain defeat that Gil-galad sends his troops, though he may not realize it. And yes, I know, I never was very wise and I likely have no right to accuse Gil-galad of folly. But that isn't what I am doing. I accuse him, and you as well, Elrond, foster-cousin, of inexperience.

 What, pray tell, do you know of the Darkness? Gil-galad may have a fleeting memory of the gloom of Nargothrond, or the flight from Falath to Balar. You, Elrond, have seen the work of the Oath. Both of you have lived through the hopeless years before Finarfin's arrival, and the War. But really, what do you know? All you've had of battle comes from the War of Wrath, and that war ended in victory.

 What do you know of battles lost?

 I was there, in the First Age of the Sun, when Aglon was taken and Tol Sirion routed. I marched to the Nirnaeth Arnoediad and was swept to Gondolin only to see it fall. Idril Silver-feet may have danced away into the West, Earendil her son may have sailed with the elfstone upon his breast - but I, naive as I was, I stayed even when I was given the chance to leave. And now here comes another battle bound to be lost.

 And tell me, Elrond, kin-most-far, what do you know of what comes after defeat? I was Maedhros Feanorion's nephew, remember. And half my young life was spent in Himlad, and hear! not all those who reached its borders were monsters. Orcs do not foster the children of their enemies, nor drive them into the woods, should enough time be given. Sauron does not.

 So march slowly, Elrond.

 Besides, I am Curufin's son (no use denying it) and kin to those who had held the Marches - I am a descendant of Finwe, born and raised in the light of the Trees. I am a Feanorian. What I need is soldiers tuned to my every command, and Gil-galad's people will not avail me much. I must fight alone if I am to hold Ost-in-Edhil as long as I might...

 I do not think it worthless. That is, holding Eregion. Or perhaps I speak of the whole fight itself. I have seen the glory of Nargothrond and Gondolin, the stark beauty of Himring. I have heard songs reminiscing Menegroth and its woods. I have ridden in the white of Hithlum and the fair green of Ossiriand. And I've had Eregion.

 Oh yes, I've had Eregion. How can I regret it? I've had Eregion, my dear Hollin, and that's enough. For Eregion was fair. And because of that, though I rue bitterly the day I accepted Annatar, I cannot regret the love I gave him. For Eregion was fair. And yet they say my heart was not corrupted!

 Elrond, blood-by-blood-spilled, you yourself once called me 'kind-hearted and selfless'. But what kindness is it, to say I would rather that you kept your head and lived to see this war to its end - for the end will come, Finrod has given me, if not a reasonable fear of Gor-thaur the cruel, then at least his hope, Estel - but that I myself would walk the path of despair? What selflessness, to lead my people into war against he whom I love?

 I heard his voice. Ah. Already told you that, didn't I? One Ring to rule them all. Good grief, the cheek! And yet I was almost relieved. Almost. How do you fight your own ambition, your lust? Their work is subtle. Only after a great while do we turn to it and cry evil. Sauron I can fight. But I feel very small, and very uprooted, and well - desperate. The Enemy is so strong and terrible.

 So marh slowly, Elrond.

 Celebrimbor.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

_'It was a waste of paper,' Elrond declared, in the Fourth Age of the world._

_Celebrimbor shrugged._

_'I did march as fast as I could. Eregion was simply too far,' Elrond said. 'So in the end the letter just served as a memorial.'_

_'Interesting. Did you ever kiss it and cry?'_

_Elrond smacked him hard. Celebrimbor laughed._

_'You should have seen the state you were in,' he growled. 'A banner! And one riddled with arrows, at that. Your hands were coated with silver and the skin beneath was burnt black. There was a crown of holly on your head-'_

_'I'm sorry!' Celebrimbor laughed again. 'But please, Elrond. Leave that for later? I'm eating.'_

 

 


End file.
